


In Order To See The Stars

by mouth_breather011



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, POV Tony Stark, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Please Don't Kill Me, Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sad Ending, Sad Peter Parker, Sad Tony Stark, Scared Peter Parker, Scared Tony Stark, Sorta maybe not so much, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23186686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouth_breather011/pseuds/mouth_breather011
Summary: Peter survived the snap, but now he and Tony are stranded in the middle of outer space. Tony hates the stars. He doesnt want them to be the last thing he sees.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 82





	In Order To See The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This . . . is very sad. I cant really tell if I liked how it turned out, but oh well. I immediately abandoned netflix and wrote this after a different fic made me cry, sooooo . . . yeah. Enjoy!

Tony never liked the stars. 

He’d never grown that same fascination that everyone else seemed to have with them. To Tony, they were just what they were; balls of gas burning billions upon billions of miles aways. Not some fantasy or sign, not a stupid wish that people thought would come true, or a path to some mystical destination that would inevitably lead to success. They were just stars.

But even then, they weren’t. Stars were terror, stars were overwhelming magnitude, stars were the helpless feeling of how insignificant you actually are. They were the last thing you saw when you died. Stars mean the end, they tell you when you can’t go on anymore, and that you’re nothing.

Tony never liked the stars. Just the thought of them made his stomach curl in anxiety, and he’d feel the pulling in his left arm, phantom pains warning him of danger. And maybe it was just PTSD that made stars seem so cruel, but no matter what it was, Tony was thoroughly convinced that stars were the devil.

He wished the kid didn’t have to see them, too.

Tony could tell that Peter was struggling to keep it all together. The poor kid spent the past twenty or so days pacing the length of the ship, his eyes trailing to the vast expanse of nothing every time he neared a window. He was restless, with nowhere to go, nowhere to be, and nothing to do but stare at the stars.

Tony wanted to tell the kid to stop and rest, keep his strength and stop wasting oxygen, but he knew it was pointless. If the ship’s logs were to be trusted, they’d never had enough resources to make the full trip back to Earth in the first place. Besides, if Peter couldn’t walk the ship and if there was no way to do any repairs, he would then be subjected to watching the stars pass by at what seemed to be the slowest rate possible. Tony wasn’t mean enough to make the kid feel that kind of terror.

The billionaire sighed, leaning his chin on his hand and pressing his elbow into the cold surface of the metal table. It reminded him of how the stars glared. He picked his elbow up off the table and watched as Peter made his next round past the cockpit’s window. He was moving slower today.

Peter stopped walking. He turned his head to the black nothingness, and he walked into the cockpit. Tony could hear the boy sit down on the steps just below his line of sight, the metal panels creaking and warping under his weight. It wasn’t unusual for Peter to do this, but something felt off about it today. The billionaire left his seat with much effort, then followed Peter into the cockpit.

The kid was as still as a statue, back slouched and arms crossed around his middle. Tony thought that he looked too small, sitting there all alone under the scrutiny of the stars’ eyes. To anyone else, Peter would have looked content, but Tony knew better. He saw the dark bags under his eyes, the way his gentle smile sagged, the pure exhaustion in his gaze. Just looking at him made the billionaire feel that immense weight of guilt that he hated so much.

Tony sat down next to him, leaving enough space for Peter to feel what he hoped was comfort, but not be overbearing. They didn’t say a word. Peter studied the stars, and Tony studied Peter’s face. He could imagine that same face lighting up with joy, surprise, anger, or any other emotion than what this was. He could see the way the kid would smile as if someone had just cracked a joke and made him laugh. He could picture a frown crinkling Peter’s eyebrows like he was trying to look upset but failed. Tony wanted it all so badly.

It could have been hours that they sat there. It could have been minutes. Honestly, Tony couldn’t have cared less. Time was irrelevant in the face of death. 

“The stars look really different from outer space,” Peter said after a few moments of silence. “I used to stargaze with my uncle on the roof of our apartment. It was my favorite thing to do with him.” Tony found it odd that one thing could mean something entirely different to another person.

“I . . . never really liked the stars,” Tony replied, avoiding looking at the window, and instead looking at Peter’s face, just now noticing that it was red and puffy with previously shed tears. “I don’t know why, but they never sat well with me. And then New York happened, and I just . . .”

Peter was staring back at him with such intensity, Tony felt it could shatter a million universes. The kid was obviously thinking about something, and Tony was honestly a little scared.

“Mmm . . . c’mon, I have an idea,” the boy muttered, pulling himself to his feet lethargically. It wasn’t until he’d retreated further into the cockpit that he realized that he was supposed to follow. He got to his feet and followed the kid slowly. 

Entering the bottom of the cockpit was something Tony had never dared to do since the moment the ship stopped moving. He didn’t know why he was following Peter into his least favorite part of the vessel, but he did it anyway. He made sure to keep his eyes down.

Peter was seated right below the captain’s chair, gaze set forward. He motioned for Tony to sit next to him, and the man complied without looking up. 

“Tony?” Peter said after the billionaire had sat down.

“Yeah, kid?” he replied.

Peter swallowed thickly, and looked down at the floor. “Do you ever . . . do you ever feel like a failure?” The kid ducked his head and curled into himself just a little more. “Like you weren’t ever good enough for anyone?”

Tony frowned. He wanted to say no, to deny that he was an actual human with normal human insecurities. But that wasn’t what Peter was looking for. No, he was looking for comfort, for a familiar person with a familiar story that he could easily relate with. If he could relate with this person, then all was normal, and not totally insane and messed up with his life. He nodded.

Peter took a deep breath and nodded back, looking back up at the stars. The silence carried on for a little while, then the kid had more to say. 

“I always felt like I deserved to die in the worst possible way,” he murmured, almost imperceptibly. Tony probably wouldn’t have caught it if he hadn’t been watching the boy so closely. That small comment sounded so miserable and dejected, and it pulled at the billionaire’s heart.

“Now that’s no way to think,” Tony replied quietly. Peter’s face crumpled slightly, but his gaze remained transfixed on the scenery in front of them. Tony almost wanted to look and see what was so fascinating about the view, but he was quick to remind himself of the existential terror he’d feel if he so much as spared a glance. 

“I saw the logs. We’re gonna die soon . . . right?” Peter asked, turning his head to meet Tony’s eyes. Though the kid didn’t let his face show it, his eyes told the story of how he was feeling. In all honesty, Peter was terrified. He didn’t want to die, and it was clear as day. Tony hated that the kid felt this way. He hated that Peter was in this position.

Peter understood the silence. He scooched closer to Tony until their knees were touching. The billionaire noticed his hands twitching, still wrapped tightly around his slender frame. Peter sniffed, and Tony glanced up to see that the boy’s eyes were watery. He didn’t know what to do.

“Kid, um, I’m not—I’m not very good with, uh, feelings,” Tony stuttered, clasping his hands together in a feeble attempt to hide how much his palms were sweating. Peter sent him a confused look. “So, uh, please don’t cry. I don’t have any tissues either.”

Peter chuckled, albeit briefly, but it was still something. He wiped his nose clumsily with one hand. Tony allowed himself a small smile, but it disappeared quickly. He heaved a shaky breath before asking, “Would it, um, would it be okay if I g-gave you a hug?” 

Peter stared at him, then nodded. Tony slowly held his arms out wide, and the kid practically jumped into his arms. The billionaire wrapped an arm around his back and used his other hand to support the boy’s head. He threaded his fingers through Peter’s messy hair without a second thought, just knowing that it felt so right. Peter had nuzzled his face into the man’s neck, holding back just as tight. He was practically sitting in Tony’s lap, but they both didn’t care.

“Mr. Stark, I don’t wanna go, please, I really don’t wanna,” Peter whimpered, his warm breath tickling Tony’s collarbone. The billionaire stuck his nose in the boy’s hair, relishing the somehow sweet smell. It broke his heart to see Peter this vulnerable and scared.

“I know, I know, shh, it’ll be alright,” he spoke, trying his best to sound comforting. He had no idea if he was being helpful, but Peter seemed to relax just a little bit. They clutched each other like lifelines, not willing to let go until they couldn’t hold on anymore. They were all they had now, and now was a better time than any to seek comfort from each other.

This was all the stars’ fault. After all the crap that had gone down, the stars were still there, taunting them with their beauty but staying too far away to reach. If wishing on a star was true, then they hogged all the magic for themselves, because in reality, stars are selfish. Every wish spent on them is wasted, because stars don’t care whether things go your way, if you need to be saved, or if you’re on the verge of death. Stars keep their distance, because they don’t care.

Tony didn’t know if it was the rapidly declining air supply that caused him to say it, but he didn’t regret it.

“I love you. I love you so much, kid, and that’s not even the half of it,” he started. “I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve done, and everything you’ve accomplished. You’re such an amazing person, the best, and I’m not even worthy of your presence. I hate that I waited to say until now, but it’s true. I love you more than I care to admit.” 

Tony heard Peter’s breath hitch, feeling him flinch violently in his arms. The kid was shivering, desperately grasping at the back of Tony’s shirt. Without a hint of hesitation, the billionaire clutched him back, pressing kisses into his hair. 

“I love you too,” Peter sobbed, his voice squeaking miserably. “I-I’ve looked up to you my whole l-life, and I can’t even explain how m-much you’ve impacted me. I’m so grateful for you, you’ve d-done so much for me. Thank y-you. For everything.”

Tony gently rocked the boy back and forth like a child, trying to picture that this was any other scenario than them saying goodbye. He swore he could hear the stars mocking him for trying. The billionaire held Peter’s head close to his shoulder, blocking the view from his line of sight. The stars shouldn’t be the last thing the boy saw.

He could tell that the air was thinning. Breathing was becoming a difficult task. Tony knew that he needed to keep Peter calm, maybe give them a little more time, but he just couldn’t find the strength to tell the boy off. It didn’t matter anyhow. Peter was already drifting, falling limp in Tony’s arms with emotional exhaustion and suffocation.

After a while, Peter pulled himself out of the embrace, sitting back down on the steps with a short sniff. Tony kept his arm wrapped around the boy’s shoulders, Peter resting his head on Tony’s. There really wasn’t anything they could do now but wait.

“Tony, you should see the stars. They’re really pretty,” Peter rasped, coughing once. Tony shook his head. “No . . . look up. Ya . . . gotta, it looks so cool.”

The boy started to slide down a bit, and Tony followed him until they were both lying on their backs with their arms wrapped around each other. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on trying to breathe and still trying to block out the glimmering specks now stationed directly above him. He felt Peter grab his hand.

“Just look. I promise, it’ll be okay.”

Tony did.

And then he saw.

He saw the stars, but not the way he did. He saw them through Peter’s eyes, through the eyes of everyone else, saw them the way they should be seen. Tony saw the stars. And he liked it.

They weren’t glaring, or laughing, or scolding. They weren’t cold and unforgiving, telling him that he was going to leave everything behind. Instead, they were crying. Crying for the world that was about to disappear. And they were smiling, because Tony and Peter would both be welcomed with open arms.

Tony’s mouth was opened wide with shock. He could feel warm tears sliding down his cheeks and resting uncomfortably in his hairline. He didn’t care. And Peter was there, too. Tony could feel him sleeping peacefully, already knowing that the boy’s eyes were shut and his mind was turned off. Peter was sleeping. Just sleeping.

The stars were beautiful. Tony liked them, but it was getting hard to see. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but he knew that sleep would take him soon. He just wanted one last glimpse.

Peter was heavy in his arms. He almost felt cold.

The stars were still twinkling above him, ready to catch him when he fell into the sky.

Tony finally understood why the stars were beautiful.

He finally understood that, in order for stars to shine like they did, there needed to be darkness. There needed to be a bad side for them to be beautiful. Stars don’t just work alone, they need help, and sometimes the help isn’t a good thing. They tear the stars down, pull at their very being and drag them into the darkest pit of the darkest part of their mind. That’s when they begin to glow.

You see, Tony never liked the stars. He never liked them, but that was because he couldn’t see them. His whole life, he’d been trapped in that dark part of his mind, looking and waiting for that glow to help him find the exit. Now he’d finally found it.

Peter was sleeping in his arms. He was just asleep.

Tony could see the stars.

He could finally see.

**Author's Note:**

> Please dont hate meeee I'm sorryyyyy  
> (Jk I'm totally NOT sorry, hate me as you please)
> 
> So this was really hard to write, you have no idea. I had to actually THINK about things and yeah. It was kinda hard. But fun! Fun but hard.
> 
> Anyhoo, I hope you guys liked this, and please check out my other works! They are my pride and joy, my precious babies. Enjoy them, love them, readddd themmmmmm. 😊
> 
> ALSO, stay safe! Coronavirus is out there, so please dont give me your germs through the screen lol. I have a family to think about


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